Harry Potter and the Key of Darkness
by TLRAMP
Summary: Harry, now the most famous Auror in Wizarding history, is sent to Romania to investigate a series of murders by an exDeath Eater, who reveals much more than Harry imagined he might. Eventual HD slash, but for now, a friendly T rating for all!


**Author's Note**: This fic was started pre-HBP and thus, it is an AU-storyline, splitting parallel from OotP onward into our own little Alternate Universe. Though it's the same Potterific universe, there are no HBP spoilers and no mention of anything that happened after Book Five, etc. Thanks and enjoy.

The Romanian sun was pure evil compared to the sweet, ever-elusive English sun Harry Potter had grown accustomed to during his nineteen years on the island. He wiped at a drop of sweat that hurried down his brow and dragged the back of his hand into his hair. He had let it grow quite long, Bill Weasley being a larger influence on Harry than Mrs. Weasley would've hoped. The twine he normally used to pull his hair off his face had fallen away during his tedious trek across the hot Romanian mountains, so now his hair hung around his tanned face, stringy with sweat and dirt, and constantly caught in the long feather-shaped silver earring that dangled from his left ear.

He climbed to the top of a large boulder and surveyed his surroundings. Harry Potter -- now the most famous and youngest Auror in Wizarding history -- had been sent to Romania to track down one of the few remaining followers of the late Lord Voldemort. Muggle news had reported a rash of unexplainable killings and Muggle behavior in the area. Muggles had been found lying in the street in this small Romanian village, dead from nothing their doctors could identify. One Muggle was found without the bones in his arms, but with no apparent scarring or anything that might indicate a violent act against him. He had no memory of how he came to be without bones in his arms, and instead had taken to clucking happily at whoever inquired about it.

The Ministry of Magic had immediately recognized this as a very bold and stupid move from a dark wizard and had sent Harry Potter and Nymphadora Tonks on a mission to find and capture the idiot. They had split up hours ago, flying in outside of the village and hiding their brooms in a small rocky cave. Tonks had volunteered to take the main road into the city and suggested Harry should sneak in as he might be "more recognizable". Harry had initially agreed, but now, as he surveyed the rocky desert land about him and a shadowy bit of land a few miles off that indicated the village, he wished he'd thought to bring his invisibility cloak, so he could walk side-by-side with Tonks into the village. He looked over to his right and could see the small speck that was Tonks, walking about an hour's walk ahead of him. Harry scowled briefly and decided to follow her.

Harry rubbed a dirty hand across a new scar that marred his brow and cheek and hopped from the rock, tan dust billowing from his Muggle outfit. His blue jeans were now the color of dried earth and the unassuming white t-shirt he had donned was brown. He felt his skin darken but not burn in the harsh sun, and he wondered if the ability to tan came from his mother or his father. He decided he'd have to ask Dumbledore sometime, as no one else was alive who could really go into detail about it. Perhaps Hagrid, but it was so hard to find time to go to Hogwarts to meet with him, and as Hagrid wasn't allowed to Apparate from Hogwarts (not that he _could _do it either way; he was terrible with magic), that made things ever the more difficult. He hopped easily down the rocky hillside, picking his way past boulder and over pebble until he made his way into the valley below. The dusty road stretched out before him and he stopped for a moment, taking in its expanse -- and the heat -- before beginning a light jog.

Since the war, he found he didn't mind sweating, panting, or being utterly miserable -- these things only reminded him he was alive, that he had _lived_, unlike many people he knew. His heart grew heavy in his chest as he thought of Ginny Weasley, dead because of Harry's foolishness.

The final battle with Voldemort had left more than physical scars on Harry's body. He, much of the Weasley family, and all the good wizards and Aurors he had come to know in his life stood in one room against a full-fledged Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The final battle had unfolded in Hogwarts Castle's Great Hall. One of the Death Eaters -- or perhaps Voldemort himself -- had figured out how to counter the spell that made Hogwarts a safe haven. They had stormed the castle, killing half-blood and muggle-born students alike. For once, he had thought sardonically, Voldemort was not prejudiced – he would kill anyone who got in his way. Harry had watched in a horrified rage as young men and women he had grown up with were brought down before his eyes. The Death Eaters all wore their masks, but Harry could hear their voices, heard the hate and twisted joy as they spat out _Avada Kedavra_s. Harry remembered telling Hermione to run as he pulled out his wand. It had been chaos. Students screaming, crying, blood on the floor, there were angry shouts and a terrible laughter that rose above it all. Harry had pulled out his wand and screamed "_Avada Kedavra_" at the nearest Death Eater. It was as though she had been punched, but then the Eater began to laugh maliciously.

"I told you," she spat, "you have to _mean _it, boy!" Bellatrix LeStrange raised her wand with a crazed cackle, and Harry stood, frozen, with nowhere to run. As her wand came down and the deadliest curse slid easily from her lips, Ginny Weasley dived from nowhere in front of Harry, taking the brunt of the curse. Bellatrix screamed in anger; Ginny in death. Though the curse had been meant for Harry, there was such an intense hatred for him behind the magic that it would have killed anyone who jumped in front of him, and Ginny, though not a weak witch in her own right, couldn't have been thinking of anything but saving him. Harry would never forget the look in her eyes as the spell hit her back, the way they seemed to say, "I love you this much" as they rolled into the back of her head and her body slumped to the floor.

Harry stared in horror as she died and Bellatrix continued to cackle maliciously. Something carnal broke inside of Harry then, and even the Death Eaters gawked as he did something no wizard would've expected from another – Harry ran head long at Bellatrix. She was confused at first, then began to spit out spells that he easily dodged. He tackled her with his momentum and weight, knocking her to the floor in his rage. Harry pulled out his wand and plunged it into the eye socket of the mask without hesitation. A wail of pain and anger issued from inside as Harry felt her eye give way to his wand and his revenge.

Then, Harry screamed "_Bombarda!_", and Bellatrix LeStrange's head exploded into a million pieces.

The hall had fallen silent and Harry looked up at the Death Eaters from his position straddling Bellatrix Lestrange's dead body. Rage unlike anything he had ever known pulsed through his veins. "Where's Voldemort?" he said simply, wanting to use this power to finally avenge his parents. A barrage of _Avada Kedavra_s aimed toward Harry had been deflected as Hogwarts powerful professors ran into the room. Little did it matter – everyone knew there was only one wizard who could kill Harry Potter.

The battle burst into chaos as Aurors arrived and students ran from the Hall. Harry weaved through Death Eaters, shouting the _Expelliarmus _charm to disarm his enemies as he searched for the man – no, the _thing _– behind the attack.

At one point, he saw Snape and Lucius Malfoy circling each other. Lucius' mask lay forgotten on the floor, a very ugly smirk disfiguring his handsome features as Snape looked at him, dispassionately. Lucius had screamed a curse at Snape, but the Potions Master had been too quick, shouting "_Expelliarmus!_" and sending Lucius sprawling backwards, much like Harry had seen Snape do to Gilderoy Lockheart years ago. Severus was much more powerful than Harry had ever given him credit for. No wonder Voldemort had wanted him on his side. Harry saw Severus lower his wand, an inexplicable look in his eye as he killed Lucius Malfoy with a breathy _Avada Kedavra_. Lucius' eyes were blank and dead, staring lifelessly at the bewitched ceiling. Harry turned away just as Snape walked over to his body, dropped to his knees beside it, and began to sob amidst the chaos and the terror.

When Harry finally found Voldemort, he was locked in an intense duel with Dumbledore. They seemed deadlocked, throwing like curses at each other and dodging one another with ease, although while Dumbledore was collected about the matter, Voldemort was frantic and spitting, jumping from table to floor as he sought for the upper hand. Harry walked beside Dumbledore and stared at Voldemort.

"What are you going to do?" he sneered, "blow me up?"

Harry held his wand before him, eyes level with Voldemort's. He felt Dumbledore back away. The world knew... this fight was between Harry Potter and the thing that was once Tom Marvolo Riddle. "Whatever will _kill _you will do just nicely," Harry bit out, his lip quivering with rage.

Voldemort lunged without another word, spitting out curse after curse. Harry dodged and fought back, the battle a complete blur in his memory. He finally _Expelliarmus_ed Voldemort's wand across the room and the Dark Lord screeched. He pounced physically on Harry, his hands wrapping around Harry's neck, collapsing his esophagus, choking him, killing him...

Harry tried to fight him off, but he was so strong, and Harry was so, so tired of the fighting, of the despair _in _fighting, of everything. Then, one of Voldemort's hands lifted and slashed at his face, his nail leaving a huge gash that would eventually be a scar spanning from his forehead down to his cheek. The blooded began to flow and blinded Harry, stinging his eyes, but his survival instinct was too strong, suddenly throbbing in his heart, through his veins, behind his eyes. He jabbed his wand into Voldemort's ribs and was able to spit out _Avada Kedavra_, but he only succeeded in blasting Voldemort from his body. Voldemort fell hard against a table and a wicked laughter issued forth from his twisted lips.

"You can't do it _boy_! You're not strong enough, you're not talented enough!" He stood, coming to his full height, his laugh turning into a scream. "_I _am the greatest wizard of all time! I have _already _shown the world! Harry James Potter _cannot _kill _me_!" His teeth were bared and his voice rang out across the hall. "Your parents died in vain, boy!" he raged, coming toward Harry, pushing him to the ground as pain spread through Harry's shoulder and he fell hard against the stone floor. "You cannot avenge them!" He looked down at Harry, grinning, red eyes glowing with insanity from those grey decomposed eye-sockets. "Oh, how _dissssssapointed _they must be in you." He kicked Harry hard in the ribs and Harry curled in on himself like an injured animal.

Harry opened his eyes, saw Dumbledore standing to the side, tears in his eyes as he watched his adopted son succumb to death. "It's going to feel so good to kill you and everything you've ever loved," Voldemort was purring, but just then, Harry turned and looked at him, rage throbbing through his scar, as he saw Hermione, the Weasleys, Neville, and Dumbledore all die as Ginny had. They would. They would _die _if he didn't get up, _do _something.

"No!" Harry screamed and his foot kicked out, connecting with Voldemort directly in the chest. The Dark Lord stumbled backwards, taken off guard and Harry stood. "_Accio _wand!" he screamed and, amidst the chaos, Tom Riddle's very own wand flew over the battle and landed in Harry's hand, the two brother wands united at last. Harry turned to Voldemort and his crimson eyes grew wide, the cocky evil glint suddenly gone. "_Avada... Kedavra._" Harry whispered involuntarily in Parseltounge, an ability given to him by this very creature that had decided his fate, this thing that had killed his parents, had made the first seventeen years of his life a hell no one would ever understand, had taught him to fear and hate like no other person ever could. Voldemort's wand knew how to kill, and killing its former master was no different from killing Cedric or James or Lilly. For Harry, feeling that rush of dark power was enough to curl his insides, break his heart.

Voldemort screamed as the brother wands united in their combined power and purpose, fueled by Harry's anger and the sacred way in which he had uttered the incantation.

Voldemort shriveled as he screamed, his body raisin-like, and some Death Eaters stopped to watch, while others ran from the Great Hall, knowing this was finally the end. Voices shouted in awe around Harry, in happiness as he sucked the life from the creature that was once Tom Riddle. Harry would never forget the way he felt inside as he killed with that curse... empty, and evil.

As Voldemort's robes settled around the smoldering ash that was once a body, Harry fell into a blissful unconsciousness. When he awoke days later in St. Mungo's, he found he was the Savior of Wizardkind – "The Boy Who Won" – a title he never wanted, one the stung his ears and made his chest hurt when he heard it. He had crossed the threshold into "murderer"... and that had not, in any way, brought the people he loved back to him, as he had half-heartedly hoped it might.

As Harry huffed and puffed down the dusty Romanian road, he couldn't help keep out the thought that had been drifting in and out of his mind for the past two years, _If I would've just let Voldemort kill me... I would be with my parents now._ He scolded himself, saying it was a selfish thing to think -- look at all the wizards and witches that were alive because Voldemort was dead. Harry had sacrificed far too much for Wizardkind, and they could never give him anything in return that would equal what he truly wanted.

"Tonks!" Harry shouted out breathlessly as the woman came into sight just beyond a hill he had ascended. She stopped, her blue-and-magenta spiked hair shifting slightly in the dry desert wind. She smiled widely at him. She rather fancied the dark, solemn Boy Who Won. His scars, long hair, and ear piercing gave him a rugged attractiveness that made witches -- and some wizards -- swoon. She often found herself flirting with him, even though he seemed utterly oblivious to all her advances. Still, she had to try. An Auror's life was hard and gritty and dangerous, the type of job only understood by other Aurors. All the guys she had dated outside her line of work had eventually shrunk away at the intensity of her job. As it stood, Harry Potter was the only eligible Auror for Tonks -- as Mad-Eye was absolutely _not _an option.

"Potter! What in Merlin do you think you're doing?" she shouted back, raising a hand to her brow to shield the sun and putting her other on her hip.

"Your mountain idea was pure rubbish!" he shouted as he approached her, panting terribly and clutching a stitch in his side. She handed him a flask of water and he nodded his head in thanks, drinking so greedily that the water dripped form the corner of his mouth.

"Don't water the ground, mate," she joked, noting in particular how the water dribbled over Harry's Adam's apple and quite hoping he wouldn't stop. She shifted and cleared her throat. "And what was so terribly wrong with my idea, Harry?"

Harry pulled the flask from his lips and handed it back to Tonks with another grateful nod, wiping the back of his hand across his wet lips, then scrunching his nose as he saw the muddy mess he made of his hand -- and surely his mouth. "Aside from the fact it would've taken me five days to get there?" he began, tasting the mud and starting to walk down the road. The village loomed so close to them Harry felt as though he could touch it. "Nothing, except it was dirty, hot, and, well, ridiculous. If I smelled that badly, you could've just _told _me instead of sending me into the hills," Harry joked and stuck his tongue out childishly at his fellow Auror.

Tonks laughed. "Alright then Harry, you smell dreadful and I feared for my stomach," Harry nodded in understanding and agreement, "however, I believe I _may _be able to remedy the situation temporarily." Harry looked at her and quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. Without warning, Tonks opened the lid of the flask and splashed water all over Harry's face, turning him into a muddied mess. Harry stopped in his tracks and stared at her, unable to believe she actually did that. She looked at him and broke into laughter, seeing the mess she had made of his face.

"You're just lucky it's hot enough for this to feel _lovely_," he hummed as they continued to walk, a smile breaking across his face despite himself, the dire situation, and the muddy water that was currently slipping between his lips. He closed his mouth quickly.

"Well," she said between laughs, "at least now no one will recognize you!"

----------------

Harry was quite dry by the time they reached the village. For all Harry's solemn ways, making the trek with Tonks (as opposed to climbing alone through those bloody rocks) was quite enjoyable. Harry rather liked Nymphadora and took to her quite quickly upon becoming an Auror. She was the closest to him in age and Harry had to admire any person that wore her hair the way she did and he was intrigued by her abilities as a Metamorphmagus. His own father and god-father had been Animagi, so, to Harry, seeing her change appearance all the time made him feel a little bit at home.

"Whew!" Tonks whistled as they walked into the small village. It was a veritable ghost town, no people running around, no voices, no movement whatsoever. As they walked down the main dirt street Harry got the distinct feeling he was being watched – a sensation he was quite keen to notice, being who he was. As he focused on the small windows and doorways of the buildings that surrounded him, Harry could pick out wide, frightened eyes and dark-skinned faces looking out at them, watching them. Harry saw more than one figure standing in a doorway, as though daring them to enter.

"Why are Muggles always so… unfriendly?" Tonks whispered at Harry, noticing more than one set of eyes that followed them. She scratched her arm and moved a bit closer to Harry as they walked. Dark Wizards she could handle, but Muggles were in a world all their own – quite literally – and it made her entirely uneasy.

"Well," Harry began, feeling the need to defend the world he had been raised in for the first half of his life. "You have to remember – someone has been killing them off, making odd things happen. You can't blame them for being cautious." Harry rubbed at the mud that was now caked and dried on his face and looked over at Tonks. Her wild hair seemed to glow in the intense sun, and her outfit was far from lady-like, with a form-fitting tank-top and a pair of over-sized Muggle cargo pants she had seen in the Muggle clothes bin at the Ministry and had fallen in love with. "Not to mention… you're not dressed, well, inconspicuously," he added and winced at the look that won him.

"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed? The top keeps me cool, and the bottoms are _great_ for storage!" She leaned to the side and unbuttoned a large pocket that sat on her thigh; then, to Harry's horror, began to pull out an over-sized beach umbrella she had magicked into the small space. "Look at how handy it--!" Harry pounced on Tonks' hand and frantically pushed the umbrella back into the pocket, hoping none of the Muggles who were now spying on them had seen the six foot umbrella she was about to pull out of her pants.

Harry gave Tonks a pained expression and the young woman cocked her head and scrunched her nose. "What'd I do?"

Ten minutes later they found themselves outside the very place they were looking for. The _Desert Moon Inn _was a run-down, ruddy looking place set back in the shadows of bigger, newer buildings, nearly hiding it from view. And if the miniscule sight of it wasn't enough, the boarded windows and uninviting smell that had the distinct scent of urine were sure to ward off curious Muggles – and almost warded Harry and Tonks off as well. During their debriefing, Harry and Tonks were told that this was the only wizard-friendly place in the town, that it would be the best place to start asking questions and find their guy. Harry walked up to the blank façade and looked for the small series of unassuming holes that would lead him into the place. His fingertips caressed the wall, searching the cool brick for the five holes that were supposed to be situated perfectly for a wizard's thumb and fingertips. Tonks imitated Harry, searching the wall for the holes. After a moment she sighed in annoyance and stepped back, watching Harry continue his search. "They should've sent for someone to _meet _us," she said rather indignantly. "Honestly, standing here, petting walls… Aren't we out here to save _their _asses?" As she spoke Harry finger tips slid quite perfectly into five holes carved into the edifice.

When he pressed them into the holes, a small four foot tall door opened off to the right, even deeper into the shadows. They gave each other sidelong glances.

"After you," Harry offered with a smirk, then watched as Tonks curled her lips at him and marched to the door, ducking away into the blackness. Harry followed her and looked behind him before entering. No Muggles were anywhere in sight, and Harry assumed the door probably had some sort of cloaking charm upon it, so Muggles wouldn't notice this run-down building was actually a thriving business. But again, the smell was enough to drive them away either way.

Harry ducked inside and immediately felt blinded. The dark pub was a sharp contrast to the glare of the sun outside and it took him a few long moments to adjust. _Too long_, his Auror training scolded at him from the back of his mind. An Auror had to be alert and prepared for every situation. Mad-Eye might tell him an instance like this was when a magic eye came quite in handy. As the room came into focus Harry became aware of a very sweet, pungent smell, like that of a foreign sort of pipeweed, which (thankfully) replaced the urine-filled scent outside the place. When his eyes finally adjusted, Harry realized part of the reason his vision was so obscured was because the room was covered by a dense cloud of smoke, and he could see dozens of wizards and witches looking curiously at him, pipes set comfortably between down-curved lips. Harry took a moment to stare defiantly at the eyes that stared back at him before turning to find Tonks, who was already seated at a table in a dark corner. She motioned for him to join her and he obeyed, slipping past chairs, tables, and wizards as he made his way toward Tonks. At one point, a wizard grabbed his forearm gruffly, and yanked him toward his table. Harry was taken off guard and almost fell into his lap. His eyes narrowed as he looked down the old wizard's long nose. The old man stared at Harry, eyes passing over each of Harry's features; then nodded in what seemed to be approval. He turned to the young witch who sat next to him and said something in a language Harry didn't understand. Her eyes widened and she looked at Harry in what was unmistakable disbelief.

_Shit_, Harry thought, knowing exactly what the look meant, and wrenched his arm from the wizard's long fingers.

When he finally got to Tonks she slapped a hand to her forehead. "Not even the mud could hide you, huh?" she whispered, flashing a grin at him as she watched him blush under all the dirt. She looked casually over her shoulder at the young witch who was now staring openly at Harry. Tonks more or less glared the other witch down before pulling Harry down to the chair across from her and rubbing her thumb across Harry's dirty cheek, hoping the witch was watching every move.

A thin, young wizard with dark skin came up to them. He eyed them for a moment, paying special attention to Tonks' hair. Tonks cleared her throat. "_Yes?_" she snapped at him and he blinked hard, seemingly unaware that he was staring. He said a few words in Romanian and, upon receiving blank stares from both Harry and Tonks, asked Merlin for strength and mustered up his best British accent.

"Drinks?" he asked, and Harry and Tonks sunk into their seats slightly, now understanding that this was just a waiter.

"Water, please," Tonks said and motioned to both Harry and herself.

Harry nodded in thanks and looked past Tonks, noticing another wizard, this one in a far, dark corner. He was hooded and his face was obscured by the darkness. Despite that, however, Harry had the distinct feeling that the wizard was watching him very closely. Harry made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring, challenging the other man to come up or look away.

After a few long minutes of this pointless staring match, the shrouded wizard stood and walked slowly over to Harry. Harry looked away from him and at Tonks. "Sorry, but we may have trouble," he murmured and saw the way Tonks' ears seemed to prick up in anticipation.

Harry avoided the wizard until he was standing directly in front of the table, clearing his throat. Harry ran an annoyed hand through his hair – he didn't need this right now. He didn't want people constantly bugging him because he was Harry fucking Potter. "You  
know, I'd just like to enjoy a drink for—"

The wizard tisked and cut him off. "Not the manners I remember, Harry." His slight cockney accent wasn't hard to place, and as Harry looked up at him, he removed his hood, revealing a mess of bright red hair.

"Charlie Weasley!" Harry exclaimed and stood so quickly he almost knocked his chair over. He wrapped Charlie Weasley, Ron's older brother, in a bear-hug, and gripped his shoulders with a huge grin. "How've you been? You're still in Romania with the Dragons then?" Tonks stared at the two wizards in surprise. Yes, this was definitely a Weasley – that red hair was unmistakable – but she hadn't realized he and Harry were so close. She stood and shook his hand, then cast an annoyed glance at the witch at the far table, who looked quite smug about the situation, which left Tonks out a bit.

Charlie smiled into Harry's face and felt a pang of despair hit him in the stomach. The scars that crossed his skin weren't the only indicators of war. Harry had a weariness about his eyes, and while he had never had the presence of a _kid_ while Charlie knew him, he had certainly aged, and at nineteen his eyes were that of a fifty year old's. Charlie realized that Harry had seen and experienced more death, grief, and sacrifice than any one person ever should, and yet he was still whole – a true Gryffindor at heart. Charlie put a hand on Harry's shoulder and waved his hand toward an empty chair, summoning it over to him so he would have a place to sit at their table.

"I'm pretty good Harry, pretty good. It was rough right after Ginny died, but I think she's been reincarnated into a dragon pup we just received from Scandinavia. This little beaut's got quite a cheeky disposition… I named her Gin… gives me peace of mind, you know?"

Harry fought back a wince at Charlie's words, remembering Ginny's death. None of the Weasley's knew she had died trying to save Harry. Harry could never tell them, he could never risk loosing the only semblance of a family he had left in his life. And while he felt terrible that they didn't know how gallantly Ginny had died, he felt even worse at the prospect of Mrs. Weasley's look of horror – horror at _Harry_ – if Harry were to ever tell her. Harry passed a hand through his dirty hair and looked down at the ground, nodding in understanding. Someday, he prayed, Ginny would forgive him his horrid secrets.

"So, is this the only wizarding pub in Romania – or did you happen to know we were gonna be here?" Harry asked, nudging the conversation in another, more helpful direction. Charlie grinned and leaned back in his chair, his cloak draping over his stocky figure and wide shoulders, so that he looked a bit like a box with a head on it. A rather attractive box, but a box nonetheless.

"Dad called me as soon as he heard you got this assignment. Told me where you were gonna be and around what time. Truthfully, I've been hanging around here non-stop for the past two days – barkeep had to kick me out last night! But aside from that--" Charlie stopped and they all sat back as the waiter returned with their waters. He asked Charlie if he wanted anything, but Charlie declined hastily.

"So, this bloke that's been killin' Muggles -- I can show you his hunting grounds, where he's been spotted and where the Muggles've been dying. Past couple of nights he's only managed to turn a couple of chickens into feathered ostrich legs, but he's been hangin' 'round the same area of the village. I'll take you there, no problem." He grinned, seeming to take pride in his ability to help.

"Thanks!" Harry said honestly and took a sip of water. "That makes our jobs… a hundred times easier – right Tonks?" Tonks nodded with a grin, still a little put out that she was second to a _man_ . Wouldn't really be the first time, though.

"Yes, maybe after this I can finally get that vacation I've been asking for since January!" she said, in order to make conversation more than anything else. "I was thinking about flying down to China, see that big wall those Muggles managed to build – without magic! Can you imagine?" Tonks laughed and took a few large gulps of her own water. "So," she said as she raised her head for a breath. Her voice dropped an octave and Harry recognized it as her down-to-business tone. He leaned in, as did Charlie. "…does anyone here have an idea about who we're dealing with? He's sounds like a crazy, but if he's been killing Muggles…"

Charlie leaned in a bit closer, a dark frown marring his soft features. "I've been listening to the wizards around here…" He stopped and nudged Harry, showing him and Extendable Ear he had hidden in his pocket. "Bless Fred and George, really – but the rumor here is that he isn't just some crazy dark wizard – he's an ex-Death Eater. Some think Voldemort," it appeared that it was still hard to get that name out, "– or maybe one of his right-hand Eaters tried to do him in, but he somehow escaped and, well, now he's two Sickles short of a Galleon, if you know what I mean. He's still certain he hates Muggles though – he hasn't forgotten _that_ much." Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly. As a Pure-blood himself, he couldn't understand the closed-minded prats that hated non-wizards. They were all just people in the end, right? Just… some were luckier than others. "A lot of the wizards and witches around here are half-bloods, so they're a little spooked, afraid he'll turn on them next." Charlie grinned a little. "But now that British _Aurors _are here, I know we're in good hands."

--------------

A small rock skittered away from Harry as the toe of his shoe connected with it, sending it rolling under a near-by bush. Harry's hands were jammed deep into his pockets and he shivered slightly as the cool night air offered by the arid desert area of the country seemed to pass right through his clothes. Right then, he wished for his cloak.

Harry glanced up at the moon as he walked alone through this small section of the town they had entered. It was a sliver of bent light in the sky, as though someone held open a round door to a very bright room, but held it open only a crack, teasing passersby who were unable to enter. He smiled slightly as his thoughts drifted to Remus Lupin, his late professor, fellow Order member, and once good friend. He wondered if Remus, Sirius, and James were now sitting around some after-life table, talking about everything that had transpired in the nearly twenty years since the group had been shattered. Or maybe they were taking turns torturing Peter Pettigrew – Harry had to smile as he could imagine the sheer glee in Sirius' face as he prodded the molten-hot tip of his wand into Peter's eyes. He sighed and looked back down, pulling himself from wandering thoughts of the moon. He wanted to be there with them, but he knew it wasn't time for him yet, and they would wait for him. Oh yes, Harry knew they would wait an eternity for him.

A shuffle from behind him brought Harry's Auror reflexes to their senses. He wasn't taking just any nighttime stroll though a terrified Romanian village at night, he was offering himself up as bait for the wizard who was tormenting Muggles. Harry looked much like a dirty, worn out Muggle tourist – and he hoped the dark wizard would agree and show himself. Charlie Weasley had led them to the east side of the village, where the attacks had taken place, and he and Tonks reached out with their senses and searched for him during the afternoon, but ended up devising this ploy after turning up empty-handed.

Harry patted the wand he had shoved down his pants, making sure it still sat snug between the waist of his jeans and his hip. He heard no more noise, but he kept himself at high alert nonetheless. Tonks was somewhere behind him, following him in the shadows. He couldn't see her, couldn't even hear her as she played chameleon with her powers, blending seamlessly into the buildings she snuck along. Harry heard another shuffle to his right, the sound of rocks and pebbles grating under a clumsy footstep, and he turned with exaggeration, donning his best quizzical Muggle voice.

"Hello? Is there a dog there?" He whistled softly and walked slowly toward where the sound came from. "Here, puppy-puppy?" He neared a small, dark shed of sorts, the type of structure for housing tools and lawn equipment. He bent over and peered into the darkness, appearing naively inattentive, though his senses were tingling beneath the surface. He was very aware that he was being watched from another shadow, now to his left, could almost _feel _the vibrations of another person staring at him without wavering. He stood upright, placed one hand on his hip and another on his head. "Mmm… Could've sworn I heard something…" He shrugged exaggeratedly and turned to make his way back to the road. Then with a swift, sudden movement, he reached under his shirt, pulled out his wand and yelled, "_Accio_ wand"

A wand did indeed fly out from the shadows and Harry caught it in his free hand. He heard a surprised yelp and a hooded figure sprung from the shadows and made to dart off down the street. "_Impedimenta!_" Harry shouted and the figure seemed to do a bit of a stumbling dance as his feet seized up beneath him and he fell face-first to the ground.

There was a rush of motion behind him as Tonks darted from the shadows. She pounced on the frozen wizard and flipped him onto his back. The man's eyes darted wildly from Tonks to Harry as he approached. "Good work, Harry," she said, pressing her wand menacingly under the wizard's neck. When Harry got up to him he saw that his eyes naturally bulged slightly, and they sat very close to his long, skinny, stick-like nose that hung over lips that almost didn't exist. His toad-like eyes focused and unfocused on the two Aurors and finally Tonks whispered a spell to the wizard's lips to allow him to speak. But before she could get anything out, he was ranting.

"Harry? Harry bloody Potter? The very one who _murdered _our Lord! Blasphemy! Traitor to wizardkind and all who come after us! How dare you look upon me! I, who served the Dark Lord well! Oh yes, we were as one, we were, but a traitor like you couldn't understand his glory! No, no, no!"

Tonks glared at the wizard as he ranted and flung blind insults at Harry. She finally clutched his jaw, digging her nails into sallow cheeks and making it very difficult for him to talk. He made a small wheezing noise before glaring up at her.

"Did your Lord make you a little mad, hmm? Torture you almost to insanity? We'll let the Dementors finish the job, won't we, Harry?" She growled and threw his head against the dirt angrily. "Killing Muggles? Is that your idea of a bit of _fun_? Not insane enough to forget what you are, though, are you – a dark, cold-blooded wizard!"

The wizard made an angry – or frightened, Harry couldn't tell – gagging noise as Tonks loomed over him, growing slightly larger in size in her anger.

"Why have you been killing Muggles?" Harry tried, attempting some sort of civil interrogation, hoping to find some sort of lead on more of Voldemort's followers before the Ministry got a hold of – and disposed of – this man. After all, Death Eaters seemed to thrive like ants – find one and you find a million more later.

The wizard laughed quite wickedly. "I'm carrying on his work, and I'll be rewarded for my faithfulness. So few of the faithful left… so many deserters… _Traitors_! But we shall find him, yes – he who has the Key! We shall kill the traitor and bring our Lord back!" The dark wizard was almost thrashing across the ground in excitement. "And _you_ cannot stop us, Harry Potter! You cannot hide the key! You cannot hide the traitor! Stupid, stupid traitor! Why _him_? Why would he make _you_… _les touche de ténèbres_!"

Harry started down at him, confused beyond belief. Key? Traitor? And what the hell did that last part mean? Harry knew of no key, though he did know of those who tried to leave Voldemort's ranks and they were usually never heard from again, either because they were too afraid to ever show themselves or had been hunted down by other Death Eaters and killed. It was actually rare that Aurors found and killed them, considering. The only true traitor Harry had ever known of was Severus Snape, who was talented enough in Occlumency to avoid detection and successfully infiltrated Voldemort's ranks in the first War. "Who's a traitor?" Harry pressed. This information could be vital to the survival of the Order. "Severus Snape? Is he the traitor you speak of?"

The wizard made a gargling noise and his eyes rolled around in his head. Harry thought he was having a fit at first, then realized it was some form of laughter – or possibly rage.

"A traitor of the Old War, that one. No, the new traitor… what a disgrace to the family name! What an evil little bastard to be so ungrateful! _Blood traitor_, that one. Not his father's son! Rot and _die_ in Azkaban, he should! _Les touche de ténèbres_!" he added with a rabid sort of scoff, spit flying from his tongue. The wizard's hands began to move as the curse wore off and Tonks promptly froze him again. But Harry didn't notice, as a very cold, frozen feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach… a sick realization.

"Who do you speak of? Who was the traitor this time?" he pressed, his heart beating in his throat. Harry sickly thought he might already know. _Maybe he wasn't such a prat after all... But how didn't I know..._

"Malfoy!" the wizard raged, his eyes looking as though they might burst. "Draco Malfoy! _Les touche de ténèbres_! May he be forever damned! _Les touche de ténèbres_!"

Harry stood frozen and glanced at Tonks. Draco Malfoy had been tried and convicted as a Death Eater and now sat in Azkaban awaiting death or insanity, whichever came first. He had maintained his innocence, but no one was stupid enough to believe a Malfoy the second time around, no matter how many Galleons he had jingling in his pockets. The trial had been quick and painless. Well, except for Draco, of course.

Harry stared at the mad wizard. He could be mistaken, simply rambling off nonsense – after all, half was in another language – but that cold sensation in his stomach told him it was more than worth looking into. He had to find Albus Dumbledore, had to tell him about this new revelation. No matter how much he had hated Malfoy, if he had been _helping _the Order he had to be released. He looked at Tonks, his brow knitted in thought.

"We need to get to England. Now." He raised his wand and closed his eyes, imagining his broom sitting in a cave miles away. "_Accio_ broom," he said and waited for his broom to close the distance between them.

It seemed they had an innocent man to save.


End file.
